You May Be Just Yet
by Thig
Summary: Kinda corny...about Tom Pullings and his wife...as I said, kinda corny...kinda mushy...Slight note from me to you. Me loves y'all!
1. You may be just yet

How do I come up with this corny stuff about the boys and their wives...oy. Be darlin's and tell me if this is worth continuing, won't you?  
  
Hannah rose on her tip-toes to look over the crowd on the dock. Various cries and laughs of hallelujah resounded and husbands and wives and fiances reunited; mothers relieved at their boys coming back before them in one piece, fathers who'd left pregnant wives and small children and had returned to have babes placed in their arms and the young children no longer clinging to Mama's skirts.   
  
"Thomas, I swear..." She mumbled to herself, scanning every man that walked down the gangplank like a hawk to make sure he wasn't her husband. She reminded herself that he may very well no longer be clean shaven or he could have put on weight, but she absentmindedly still looked for that slim figure and smooth face.  
  
She leaned to the side to see past the nearly seven foot Captain, and literally felt her heart sink while the tears welded up as he walked over to her, the last man off.  
  
He half-smiled at her. "Relax, Miz Pullings, your husband's on a better ship."  
  
She clamped her hand over her mouth, giving the tears an obstacle on the way down her cheeks.  
  
"Oh, darling, I beg your gracious pardon! I meant not that at all!" He wiped the tears off with his thumb, chuckling slightly as he pointed to the ship at the next dock over. "No, he's alive and perfectly healthy! I named him Captain of the Acheron after we took her. I apologize most sincerely, I must've frightened you!"  
  
She sighed deeply, touching her chest. "I'll admit you did, but think nothing of it, sir!"  
  
"He's probably waiting for you. You know, he kept those letters you sent him at that last port very close to his heart. Right inside his shirt. Pulled 'em out every time he thought no one was looking."  
  
"I kept the ones he sent me pinned to the wall in the kitchen. His spelling is improving."  
  
Jack smiled brightly and snorted a slight laugh. "He's a fine officer. Very dutiful, but at ease. Needed in a stressful job. He moved up in his ranks rather quickly."  
  
"He is a fine man. A good husband."  
  
"A good father, as well?"  
  
She breathed a small expression of amusement. "Alas, I cannot judge. He isn't a father."  
  
Jack nodded in understanding. "You two are practically newlyweds. You deserve a bit of time. Now, go on, before he thinks you died or worse." He gave her a slight tap on the shoulder to turn her in the direction of the Acheron.  
  
She wheedled her way toward the gangplank of the gorgeous Yankee-built ship. Her legs wobbled a bit on the deck, but she managed to make her way down to the lower decks.  
  
"Alright, where's the captain's quarters...Good Lord, it's dark..."  
  
She felt around, trying not to trip on anything, but Fate left a crate in her path that she didn't notice, and she stumbled into a pile of more crates and barrels. The deafening crash echoed down the various hallways and passages.  
  
"Who's there?!"  
  
The demanding voice frightened Hannah a moment, but she quickly recognized the tone.  
  
"Thomas?"  
  
The speaker was silent, startled, it seemed.  
  
"Who's there?!"  
  
"It's your WIFE, Thomas Pullings!" She answered annoyedly.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Hannah?"  
  
"Yes, Thomas! Now git over here and help me up!" She weakly tried to push herself up, but, as expected, she got nowhere.  
  
Tom hopped over the mess on the floor and quickly pulled her up.  
  
"Pardon, dearest, I was about to go up! Honest, I fell asleep in my quarters and no one woke me! Oy, apple tart, I'm sorry, are you hurt?"  
  
"No." She glared at first, but the expression dropped as she sighed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "And I'm sorry if I sounded like-"  
  
He threw his arms around her and picked her clean up off the floor in a hug.  
  
"Thomas Pullings, you put me down! And get your face out of my bust, lest someone think I'm just pleasurable company!"  
  
He ignored the demand, only mumbling, "What good is a soft spot if I can't put my face in it?"  
  
"THOMAS PULLINGS!"  
  
He gently but reluctantly set her down, leaving his arms around her waist.  
  
"You're very lucky to have come back in one piece. If you'd come back in any more, I would've hit you so hard..."  
  
He only laughed and kissed her cheek, finally getting her to return his embrace.   
  
Most men saw Hannah Pullings as naggy, cold and defiant, and pitied her husband, but Tom knew she nagged because she worried, had her tender moments, and wasn't society obedient because of the expectations that she saw as imbecilic pushed on her by her family. Rather, she thought them both imbecilic, which is why she hadn't been like most wives and gotten pregnant on the wedding night.  
  
He'd thought the same as the others at first, and when the marriage had been arranged, he'd figured he might as well tame the shrew, only to find she was very motherly, not necessarily just cranky, and had a sense of humor that left his sides sore on occasion. True, she chased him out of the kitchen and rapped him across the knuckles with a ladle or whatever was in reach when he swiped a spoonful out of the pot or pinched her arse, but he found poking and prodding her entertaining, and knew that she knew that was his sole purpose for pestering her.  
  
"Did you enjoy your break from your annoying housewife?"  
  
"Don't be silly, Hannah, aside from sturdy ground, you were what I missed the most."  
  
"You're a Navyman, why would you miss sturdy ground?"  
  
"Well, it makes walking and sleeping easier. I find it quite useful for...other things, too..."  
  
She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Don't worry, Hannah, I was utterly loyal in my absense."  
  
"You had better been. Otherwise, I'd-"  
  
"-hit me so hard the adulteress would feel it. I know, apple tart, and I kept my pride tied." He pulled her closer. "You threaten a lot for a wife so eager to see her husband home from war."  
  
"Come along, Tom, look at you! What did they feed you? You're NOT the man I put aboard the Surprise! Slimmer n' a snake! And look at the darkness under your eyes! What is THAT?" She pulled back slightly out of reflex of looking him over.  
  
Poking him in the usual ticklish spots, she demanded how it was possible that she could now feel his ribs through his uniform.  
  
"Well, look at you, apple tart, you've lost weight, too! Either that, or your hips have gotten bigger! This waist...tosh! That's no corset, either! Your bust is more defined that it ought to be!"  
  
"Keep your face out of it and it won't seem so defined," she countered indignantly.  
  
"As I said, what good is a soft spot if you can't burrow in it?"  
  
"Keep your face out of my chest until it's appropriate, otherwise the only soft spot you'll feel is the downstairs parlor couch."  
  
*************************************************************  
  
"Poor Pullings...probably bleedin' from his ears at his wife's yappin'."  
  
"That dratted whore...whoever arranged that marriage should be shot, along with the bride," Killick mumbled in response at Anderson.  
  
"I wouldn't let my tongue run like that." Bonden set his cup down and swished the contents about a bit. "Mrs. Pullings is a worrier, sure, who pokes and prods quite a lot. But she's a lovin' woman; was kind to me when I broke my nose in a boxin' match. Of course warned and whined on me 'bout fightin'. No less lovin' than my Lilith, though."  
  
"You married a dratted whore, too, Bonden!" Killick spat.  
  
Anderson giggled at the comment, but quickly shut his mouth as the steward went flying backwards off the bench followed by a light spray of blood from a split lip.  
  
"I wouldn't call anyone's Mrs. a whore, Killick, you're the one who uses harlots!"  
  
Barrett snorted at the other dumbfounded crew member. "Have you something to say to me, Anderson?!"  
  
"Nothin'," he sqeaked, turning away.  
  
"You're married, too, so you best leave it at that."  
  
He turned on his heel and stormed out of the men's galley, and quickly saluted the Captain as he walked past.  
  
Jack grabbed his shoulder to stop him and gripped his right wrist.   
  
"Bonden, explain the bloody knuckles." He frowned, glowering.  
  
"Jus' punched Killick, tha's all, sir."  
  
"What for now?"  
  
"Called m'wife a whore. As well as Lieutenant Pullings' Mrs."  
  
"Wipe that blood off your knuckles and go find Lilith. She's probably thinking you're hiding from her, and if you show up with a bloody hand, she'll give you hell. And I'll give you hell, too, if you knock him that hard again. Stop pickin' fights."  
  
"Sorry, sir."  
  
"Go on, now." He left his co'sun and went into the galley. "Killick, you know how Bonden feels about his wife. I don't know how you can speak of her like that, she's quite a sweet girl."  
  
"'S not Lily, I've the issue with...it's Mizzus Pullings. Naggy, annoyin' demon-woman, got no place with the good Lieutenant."  
  
"You, Preserved Killick, don't even know her. Now, clean your face, and see Stephen, if you can. Bonden hits pretty hard. And no more talking dirt about your fellow sailors' wives. Or at least get your facts straight afore you speak."  
  
"Aye, sir," Killick grumbled, shaking off some of the excess blood on his hand as he got up.  
  
************************************************************  
  
"Thomas, are you alright?"  
  
"Perfectly well, love. Why?"  
  
"You seem troubled."  
  
"No, not at all," he answered quickly.  
  
Hannah's forehead furrowed. "Tom, I can easily tell that's a lie. What's wrong?"  
  
"It's nothing." He brushed it away with a slight wave of his hand.  
  
"Come now, Thomas, what is it?" She stepped in front of him, placing a gentle hand on his chest to stop him.  
  
"It isn't a big issue, apple tart, I promise." He took her hand and stepped around her to keep on going.  
  
"You got that letter from my parents, didn't you?"  
  
He slowed. "Letter?"  
  
"Thomas, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, the opposite is as plain as day. The letter questioning our sterility and pestering us about an heir."  
  
"Yes...that one," he replied monotonously.  
  
"I hate being told that is the sole purpose for marriage. After all, I've grown to love you deeply, Tom."  
  
"And I you, apple tart...but...do you not think that a son or daughter might be nice?"  
  
"Tom, I will not carry a baby that is in existance merely to please the rest of the world."  
  
"Of course, apple tart, I would never force you to do something like that if you didn't want to."  
  
"Amen." He grip on his hand became less tense.  
  
He cocked his head. "What about to please me? Would you have a baby to please me?"  
  
She sighed, but it surprisingly wasn't angry. "I will think on it, Tom."  
  
"That is all I ask." He shot her a mischievious glance, a look she furrowed her brow at. "But do note, apple tart, I will pounce when you least expect it, and you will not be able to escape my hands then."  
  
"What about you not forcing it?"  
  
"Well, if you enjoy yourself, I will not have to force it, will I?"  
  
He laughed as she whacked him lightly.  
  
Bonden, completely swarmed by his five children, stumbled down the street, his wife trailing behind him, looking smug.  
  
"OCH! Aubrey, you're clawin' Da'! ACK! An' chokin' 'im, too! Moses, don't yank Da's pants down in public! Alright, no one else on Da's legs, Da' can't hardly move!"  
  
Hannah smiled and nodded at Lily as she walked near. "Evening, Lily. Sent the rascals after other bait, now did you?"  
  
Lily beamed. "Aye, that I did, Mizzus Pullings. As soon as Da's in view, they almost trampled him and jump on him like squirrels on a tree. Alright, loveys, don't kill your father! Be good little sailors and say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Pullings!"  
  
The children instantly leapt off Barrett and lined up militantly in front of their mother, oldest to youngest.   
  
"Well, if you aren't little darlings," Tom chuckled, making a bow in return to each of them as they either bowed or curtseyed. "Who's who in this adorable bunch?"  
  
"This is Aubrey," Lily said proudly, touching the lovely ten-year-old who took after her father, with her wavy blonde locks and large green eyes. "She's ten, my eldest. Born but ten months after Barrett and I got married."  
  
"I remember you..." Tom winked at her, causing the young maid to blush. "The little lass Bonden brought aboard when we were docked. You could barely walk then, and your da' set you up on the wheel. I also remember you yelling at him, Lily. Rather amusing, that was. And who's this handsome young man?"  
  
"This is Jeremiah, the eldest of our boys, being nine. Wants to be a sailor like his papa. Serve under Cap'n Pullings, eh?" She asked the boy jokingly.  
  
Jeremiah, though he had his mother's light brown hair, was no doubt his father's son.  
  
"Can I, sir?" He asked excitedly in his quiet voice.  
  
"I'll tell you what, lad," Tom said, leaning down. "If yer mum n' da' say it's alright, I'll take you out a little ways in the ol' ship, eh? I'll take all of you out, teach you to be little pirates. How does that sound?"  
  
The children instantly scrambled up to Lily. "Can we, Mum, can we, please?!" They asked repeatedly, anxious and worked up.  
  
"Yes, please, be out of my hair for a bit!" She waved her arms at them to shoo them, a slight smile on her face. "And you mind your Captain! You have my permission to smack them, Cap'n Pullings, if they're disrespectful."  
  
They looked fearfully but innocently up at Tom, and quickly stood at attention in front of him.  
  
"I'm sure they'll be good, Lily, dear. Don't worry."  
  
"And I'll get you in and out of the harbor," Barrett said, stepping up next to his offspring.  
  
Tom walked down the row as though inspecting them for the Marines, the boys puffing their chests out to look tough. He stepped in front of the twins and the little girl at the end of the row.  
  
"And who're these three that have joined my crew?"  
  
"Joshua," the first twin said confidently.  
  
"Moses," the second replied with equal enthusiasm.   
  
"Ruby," the little girl said quietly, completely butchering the pattern.  
  
Tom knelt in from of Ruby so his face was level with her own, a young replica of her mother's. "So you're the littlest of the bunch..." He raised her chin as she looked at the ground, and drew his hand away once her shy gaze was locked in his. "Ruby, is it?"  
  
"Yessir."  
  
"I bet you- come now, I don't bite..." He chuckled, raising her chin again. She looked so pitiful, huge eyes welling up with tears of fear. Her father patted her on top of the head to ease her anxiety.  
  
"I bet your brother's pick on you, don't they?"  
  
"Yessir...call me awful names," she squeaked.  
  
"Language they learned from their father," Lily grumbled, rolling her eyes.  
  
"How's about I make you my first lieutenant. Then you can order them about, eh?"  
  
Jeremiah only blinked a shocked blink, but Joshua and Moses looked completely horrified.  
  
Ruby smiled broadly, eyes wide with excitement.  
  
"May I really, sir?"  
  
"Of course, little darling. You even get to order yer da' about."  
  
"Now, Mr. Pullings..." Barrett blurted nervously.   
  
"Oh, hush, Bonden, every married man knows how to take orders from a woman. Have mercy on your da', Ruby...he's traumatized."  
  
"I will, sir," she promised with a mischievious glint in her eye.  
  
"How wonderful your husband is with the children," Lily said softly to Hannah. "And fine-featured and handsome, too...if it isn't to bold, ma'am."  
  
"Aye," was Hannah's only dumbfounded response, never taking her eyes from Tom.  
  
Tom rose and offered his arm to his wife. "Come along, apple tart, we best get home. If I may say, Bonden, you've the finest little crop of sweethearts."  
  
"Thank you kindly, sir," Barrett said, beaming.   
  
"And thank you ever so much for taking them out," Lily said, looking extravagantly grateful.  
  
"I've still got my sea legs, it won't be a problem," Tom assured, patting Hannah's hand as she linked it through his arm.  
  
With final farewells, they were soon off their separate ways.  
  
"Little darlings, the lot of them," he commented half to himself, half to Hannah.  
  
When he received no response, he looked over worriedly at her. "Hannah, are you well?"  
  
"You may be a father just yet, Tom," she replied, amazed. "You may be a father just yet..." 


	2. Smile, apple tart!

A thousand thanks to those who seem to like my corny works. I love you!   
  
Um...Sakai213...I hope you are aware that both Hannah and Lilith are my own creations...I'm just having fun with the marriages of the characters. Tom Pullings is married in the books, but I have no idea on his real wife's name. I read somewhere that Bonden accidentally got married...no clue on the chick there either. Personally, I don't recommend the books. To me, it made all the characters perverted jerks. I much preferred Jack Aubrey's gentlemanly attitude in the movie. All the characters seemed far more loving to me in the movie.  
  
But that's just my opinion...if you wish to purchase them...well, I'm not God, I'm not going to mess with your free will. I am greatly appreciative of your reviews, though...hope you don't hate me now.  
  
Lapsus Calami- You are wonderful...I love you That story you dedicated to me was very sweet. Positively darling.  
  
All your reviews were very kind and my work is no where near deserving of them. But since people asked for more, I shall give them more.   
  
My disclaimer is up on my profile, since I really only write under one fandom.  
  
Here is the requested for chapter...  
  
"Thomas!" Hannah shook her husband's sleeping figure. "Thomas Pullings! Sleeping this late is unhealthy! Besides, you're taking the Bonden children out later! Up, now!"  
  
He swatted at her weakly and groaned. "'S not time for cannon routines..."  
  
She furrowed her brow in puzzlement and annoyance, then pursed her lips and flicked him behind the ear. "Up, now, Thomas Pullings, lest I flog your bottom!"  
  
Moaning and grumbling to himself, he pulled back the covers and rolled over so he was sitting up, yawning and stretching.   
  
Hannah's eyes widened in shock, and she jumped frantically in front of the open, sunny bedroom window. "Have a bit of modesty, Thomas Pullings!"  
  
He looked down, uttered a delayed "oh," and reached for his pants.  
  
She quickly closed the curtains. "Have you no decency?"  
  
"You didn't say that once last night."  
  
Her jaw dropped as he snorted laughter. "You hush! Marital duty is decent enough." She bopped him on her way out the bedroom for his continued chuckling and giggling about how God removed "decency" from the marriage bed, and scolded him on her way down the stairs, though doubted he heard it.  
  
"Perverted man..."  
  
He soon joined her downstairs, her frowning at his still-open shirt and ruffled hair.   
  
"Sarah, be a darling and fetch coffee for your Master and Mistress, won't you?" He waved at a maid as he sat down, smiling mischieviously at Hannah.   
  
She glowered at him. "You are utterly disturbing, Thomas...utterly disturbing..."  
  
Tom's smile only widened. "I am but a simple man, apple tart, wrought for simple pleasures."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Enough of your talk, afore it makes me ill. Are you ready to take the children out today?"  
  
"Oh, aye...thank you, Sarah." He relieved the serving maid of the two cups of coffee she bore and allowed her be dismissed. "I greatly look forward to seeing those little charmers again. Darling, simply darling, were they not?"  
  
"They were indeed," Hannah agreed with a nod, reluctantly allowing a fond smile to cross her lips.  
  
"You must smile more often, Hannah, you've the prettiest smile."  
  
She quickly killed it. "Cheeky flirt, you are. And button your shirt." Though the order was for him, she reached across the table and did it for him.  
  
"Come now, apple tart, I'm still in the house..."  
  
"I don't care. You're still going to look halfway like a gentleman in front of God."  
  
"Oh, for pity's sake, God saw me naked in my mother's belly and all the other times I went without clothes, and He has not damned me visibly yet. In fact, He blessed me with a beautiful wife. Who needs to smile more." He reached out and lifted her cheeks with his hand, forcing a smile.  
  
She smacked his hand away. "Stop that, Thomas! And get something to eat afore I kick you out the door! SARAH!"  
  
"I'll eat later. IT'S ALRIGHT, SARAH!"   
  
"IGNORE HIM, SARAH, DO AS I SAY!"  
  
"I'LL DOUBLE YOUR PAY THIS WEEK IF YOU IGNORE THE MISTRESS THIS ONCE!"  
  
She pursed her lips and glared at him, while Sarah only raised one eyebrow, then both, and went back in the kitchen.  
  
"How horrid you are, Thomas Pullings." Hannah upturned her nose, refusing to look at him anymore.   
  
He only chuckled and reached over in attempt to take her hand. "Ah, my sweet Mrs...I know you truly love me. I'm going to go change before I go out. Come now, don't be like that." As he rose from his seat, he kissed her cheek and patted her shoulder.   
  
Staying in her angry position, she waited until the footsteps on the stairs were out of earshot, then sighed whole-heartedly and somewhat annoyedly. "Ah, Thomas, why can I never stay honestly mad at you..."  
  
"Because you love me, Hannah!"   
  
She whirled and growled upon seeing that he was smiling stupidly from the top of the stair case. "Thomas Pullings!"  
  
"Smile, apple tart!"  
  
Inwardly, she was laughing, but outwardly, she had her fixed cranky expression, though a tad exaggerated now as she leapt up and chased him up the stairs. "Why can't you simply go about your business?! Don't spy on me! You know I hate it when you do that! AND NO I WILL NOT SMILE!" 


	3. It's alright to be a pillow, you know

Here we go...chapter 3...I'm amazed people actually want to read this...  
  
I dedicate this chapter to Lapsus Calami...cuz' she's such a sweetie and puts up with my bothering her on AIM. Love ya, babe!  
  
"Puh-lease, apple tart!" Tom begged dramatically, looking completely undignified. Jack Aubrey would have surely been ashamed, and Stephen Maturin would've questioned his mental health.  
  
"Thomas, you look utterly idiotic. My answer is no." Hannah looked away, crossing her arms defiantly.  
  
"Please, apple tart, I promise nothing'll happen!"  
  
"No, Thomas Pullings!"  
  
He sighed, exasperated. "Well, come along, at least give me a kiss goodbye." He held him arms out, lips pursed in hopelessness.  
  
She held her indignant stance a moment, thinking about it, before at last making a slight shift in his direction.  
  
When she was within range, however, he gripped her waist, slung her over his shoulder, and walked giddily out the door.  
  
"Thomas Pullings, you put me down this instant!" She shrieked, smacking him on the only place she could reach: his back.  
  
"Thank you for joining me, apple tart," he chirped, walking quite straight for someone with a squirming lass right next to his head.  
  
"THOMAS PULLINGS!" She cried, eventually clinging to him to maintain balance.  
  
"Relax, Hannah..." He lopped her down inside the carriage, then climbed in after her, still smiling while urging on the perturbed driver.  
  
She swung her arm around to smack him, but he caught her wrist.  
  
"Now, apple tart, don't be like that. Here, come along, give me a kiss."  
  
"I most certainly will NOT!" Hannah scooted away, crossing her arms in her classic offended stance.  
  
"Come along, Hannah..."  
  
"NO!"  
  
He moved over to her, wrapping his arms around her as she looked out the opposite window, cranky.  
  
"Pretty apple tart..." He whispered right in her ear.  
  
"Stop that, Thomas!" She snapped. "I can't stay angry at you when you do that!"  
  
"Sweet, lovely, pretty wife..." He toyed with a strand of her hair, allowing his lips to barely touch her ear as he spoke.  
  
"Thomas, please..."  
  
Oh...a polite word. In a somewhat softer voice, too...  
  
"Come now, give me a kiss..." He gently turned her head with a finger under her chin.  
  
Her eyebrows told she was still a bit annoyed, but he could tell he was making progress. Only a little at a time, to be sure, but it was progress nonetheless.  
  
Puckering up, he inched her along into eventually complying with his request, and even managing to practically set her on his lap.  
  
"Thomas, why do you do that?"  
  
"Because I know you don't hate me."  
  
She slipped off his lap with a vaguely jovial sigh.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with loving your husband, apple tart. In fact, I recommend it..."  
  
"You know I love you, Tom."  
  
"And you know I love you. And you do realize that you can, in fact, touch me in public in some affectionate way...it isn't a sin."  
  
"Oh, for pity's sake!" She snorted. "You just lugged me out the door over your shoulder! Which was QUITE undignified, might I add...for both you and myself."  
  
"Really? I was not embarrassed. I had a pretty girl not only on my arm, but clean across my back and chest! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were embarrassed of ME."  
  
She glowered. "Thomas, I'm actually very proud of you. You wouldn't believe the women who come up to me and ask if I'm your SISTER just as a pathetic grasp at hope that you're not taken."  
  
"You do tell them otherwise, right?"  
  
"Of course. 'No, that handsome sailor is my husband, I'm afraid'. At least women speak decently of you. No man has ever spoken kindly of me."  
  
"You've thick skin, I must admit, Hannah, but I have seen the tender heart beneath. I have felt your kiss and heard you say you love me. You're merely a leather pillow. It's alright to be a pillow, you know..."  
  
She grumbled something inaudible.  
  
"You needn't be so stiff, apple tart! It's perfectly sane to be a soft-touched, gentle creature. Here, face that window."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"  
  
"Just...look out the window. Come on, now..." He gently pushed on her shoulders to start her turning.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him, suspiciously obeying.  
  
With her back now at his disposal, he smiled kindly at her and began to massage her back, a movement at which she at first tensed, but quickly relaxed, her rigid attitude crumbling once again for the soft stroke of her husband's fingers. Biting her lip, she looked guiltily at the floor.  
  
"Oh, Hannah, don't be ashamed. I love the woman I married and forgive her every fault. I only wish you'd calm yourself more. You are rarely in a calm approachable mood, but I find myself quite attracted to you when you are."  
  
The sides of her mouth twitched.  
  
"It's alright to smile, too..."  
  
It was becoming more and more obvious she was trying to force the smile down.  
  
"Yes, do smile, Hannah!" He poked her right under her ribs, where she was most ticklish.  
  
Unable to hold the laugh in, she fell back against him, allowing him to catch her and hold her tightly, giggling with her.  
  
"See, Hannah, you should be like this more often!"  
  
She stared up at him, smiling for a rare moment, but it dropped when she nearly fell off the seat from the carriage stopping suddenly.   
  
Tom grunted as he pushed his feet out in front of him to keep his head from slamming into the front of the carriage.   
  
Hannah only looked at him, somewhat worriedly and expectantly, straightening her arbitrarily mussed skirt. He could only look back for a moment, then said, "I'll see what's going on..." out of protective male instinct as he opened the carriage door.  
  
She peered out the window after him as he rapped on the side of the driver's seat, looking forward.  
  
"Oy, I 'pologize, sir...a little babe done ran out in front of the horses, she did! Must not've been lookin'..."  
  
Tom nodded and trotted to the anterior, stood a moment, then bent over.  
  
"How'd you wind up over here, love? Here, now, don't cry, you've done nothing wrong..."  
  
His wife raised an eyebrow when he rose stiffly, as though burdened by some weight, and walked slowly back with none other than little Ruby Bonden in his arms. She was obviously shaken, sniffling hard and tears welling. She clung to him as though she was being chased by a dragon.  
  
"There, now, it's alright, little one...get lost, did you? Don't fret, little love, you can ride with me and the Mrs...."  
  
Hannah moved to make room as her husband climbed in, settling the startled girl on his lap. She looked wide-eyed at Mrs. Pullings, who offered a slight smile.   
  
"Are your parents headed to the docks?" Tom asked gently, brushing a few strands of Ruby's light brown straight hair behind her delicate ear.  
  
She only nodded, still breathing hard from the shock of nearly being trampled by two hefty draft horses.   
  
"Did you get lost on the way?"  
  
Only bobbing her head once more, she wiped her watery eyes.  
  
"There now, little love, it's alright...we'll have you back with Mummy soon, eh?" 


	4. Might I ask you something?

Hey, y'all! Sorry this took kinda long...I love you people, you're all so sweet...  
  
And here's the next installment of Hannah/Tom goo....  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 4  
  
Bonden stood in front of the docks, keeping young Joshua leashed to him by the hand, with Moses sitting at his feet and Jeremiah and Aubrey standing almost dutifully at his side. Barrett himself had a worried look plastered across his weathered face, and was turning his head and squinting almost constantly in search of a lost gem. He mumbled, lips barely moving, for God to please place his precious stone back in his hands.  
  
"Bonden!" Tom called, waving to identify himself from a distance. He handed his wife out, asked the driver to please wait a bit and take her home, and bent to hand out his wee guest.  
  
The instant Bonden saw Ruby, he let go of his son, trotted over and picked her up, hugging her tightly as though he wasn't going to let her go until the day he died.  
  
"Oy, thankee ever so much, Mr. Pullings! Where'd she get off to?" He steadied the girl on his elbow, looking at her with an expression that didn't have to speak to tell prayers of thanks. "There now, lovey, are you trying to put your father in Davey Jones' locker afore it's 'is set time?"  
  
Ruby only hugged him, whimpering slightly as though she was afraid Da' had gone deathly ill in her absense.  
  
"She was off roaming the streets; must've gotten lost from your little caravan," Tom said, smiling and ruffling her hair.  
  
"OY, MY BABY!"   
  
Lilith came running out of what seemed to be nowhere and threw herself on her husband and her daughter, causing Barrett to nearly go right on his arse. "Oy, you scared the dickens out of me! Where'd you get off to? About to kill your mother, that's what!"  
  
"Mr. Pullings was kind an' brought her back. Done got lost on our way over, the poor dear."  
  
Tom pinched Ruby's cheek lightly, smiling broadly at her. "I can't very wel have my first Lieutenant wandering about in the middle of town! Now, where is the rest of my crew?"  
  
The remaining four of the Bonden children lined up in front of him, feet together, backs straight, chests puffed out.  
  
He greeted the pretty young Aubrey with a kiss on the hand, making her blush, then bowed to each of the boys.   
  
"Are you ready to be little pirates?"  
  
The children nodded excitedly, shifting in eagerness to begin their expedition.  
  
"Alright, race to see who can get up the gangplank the fastest!" He waved an arm to start them, and they instantly whirled around, dodged their father's legs and sped down the dock. Bonden set Ruby down to join her brothers and sister, then turned to speak with his wife.  
  
Tom turned to his own wife, and took both her hands warmly in his own. "Will you not kiss me goodbye, apple tart?"  
  
"Thomas, not in public..." Hannah pulled away as he drew in.  
  
"Oh, come now..." He tried again, but she only leaned back in defiance. "What did we talk about in the carriage? You can touch me in some affectionate way..."  
  
"I am touching you affectionately enough."  
  
"Just a wee kiss, Hannah, that's all I'm asking."  
  
"And I said no."   
  
He pursed his lips. "'Tis a kiss, love, and only that! I'm not asking you to make love in the street-"  
  
"Thomas, mind your tongue!" She snapped.  
  
He looked over at Barrett and Lilith. Barrett's arms were around her waist, and Lilith's were around his neck, the two touching noses and cuddling like young lovers. Several "ew!"s erupted from their children, already on the ship and since done arguing over who had won the race.  
  
"Shut up, you wee buggers! It was this kinda stuff that got you 'ere in the first place!" Their father shouted, half in joke.  
  
Aubrey and Jeremiah only gagged more, while Joshua, Moses and Ruby only looked at him, confused.  
  
Lilith finally gave him a light peck on the lips, then one on the cheek, and shooed him toward the boat to calm those who had already gotten the "procreation talk", lest they stir up more ruckus.   
  
"Is it really so impossible for you to do that, Hannah?" Tom asked quietly. "Now kiss me. 'Twon't hurt, I promise..."  
  
Hannah only looked up at him, her eyes telling both sides of the story. She was not an openly romantic creature, they said. But Tom paid heed only to the other half.  
  
This outwardly cold, snippy-mouthed, rock-of-a-woman had an unfathomable love for her husband, and in his darkest hour would hold him and comfort him in the tenderest of touches.  
  
He hugged her. Though he was blind to it at first, she was an incredible woman, with so much to offer the world...if only she'd show it.  
  
"Lilith, might I ask you something?" Hannah asked, after offering her a ride home, which she gladly took.   
  
"Course, Mizzus Pullings!"  
  
"You and your husband...how long have you been married?"  
  
"Oy!" Lilith laughed fondly and touched a hand to her chest. "Near eleven years now! And Barrett's still going strong, if you take my meanin', marm..."  
  
Hannah nodded. "Did anyone ever expect you to have children? In example, your parents?"  
  
She blinked, furrowing her brow in a moment's thought. "Nay. Then again...I can't say they were very happy with me about my marriage at all."  
  
"Really? Why's that?"   
  
"Ah, Barrett wasn't necessarily...eh, in my station, shall we say? I was a kinder man than any of the idiots my parents thrust in front o' me to pick from. They've disowned me for it, but at least I get to say I have a happier marriage than any of my sisters. Have you parents on your tail, marm?"  
  
"Aye," Hannah mumbled. "Even wrote us both letters questioning our fertility!"  
  
Lilith shook her head. "Never did much understand the need for an heir that must be instantly gratified. Do you want children, Mizzus Pullings?"  
  
"Not exactly. 'Tis the pressure that annoys me. And I don't think I'm much of a fit mother, anyway."  
  
"If you don't mind my sayin', marm, Mister Pullings' make a fine father."  
  
She sighed. "I know he would."  
  
Lily cocked her head at the wife who seemed suddenly depressed. "Ever wonder if God intends you to have children?"  
  
She nodded. "I do wonder often, and I've prayed. Tom does want to be a father, but I'm hardly a good wife! Now what does that tell you about the kind of mother I'd be?"  
  
"Tells me absolutely nothing, marm."   
  
Hannah looked at her in surprise. "Really?"  
  
"Marm, if I may say, you've the tiniest comfort zone. The question is not whether or not you'll make a good mother, the question is, should you be a parent, are you willing to let your husband coax you out of this corner you've backed yourself into? Are you willing to let God provide the wisdom needed? Faith, Mizzus Pullings, is a powerful thing. Have faith in your husband and Heavenly Father. Remember, God, promises a safe dockin' in the harbor."  
  
"Bonden, might I ask you something?"  
  
Barrett looked down from his place at the wheel to where Tom was sitting, watching the children scamper about on deck. "Course, sir."  
  
"Bonden, I can't figure out my wife..."  
  
"Only God knows what He created," he said with a chuckle.   
  
Tom snorted a laugh, then went contemplative again. "My Hannah is an incredible woman, quite capable of many things. She is truly my better half. But what makes a woman untrusting, Bonden?"  
  
He shrugged. "Many things, I 'spose...a pre'vus relationship...guilt...fear. Nany things. Women are complicated."  
  
"What has she to be afraid of? She knows I would never hurt her. She's placed herself in this...this space she can barely move in because of whatever goes on in her head. I've tried to pull her out, but she doesn't yield for but small increments of time."  
  
"Ah..." Bonden smiled, nodding. "Therein lies your problem, Mister Pullings. See, I learned this quite a while ago 'bout people like that. Y'can't take their hand and try to pull 'em out. You gotta show 'em it's safe to come out, if you take my meaning."  
  
Tom bit his lip in thought. "She's a fine woman, very pretty, very intelligent. But she has this...fear of amorous touch. She pulls away from me, even in the bedroom many times, if you don't mind my saying, Bonden."  
  
"Course not, sir. You're married, 'tis perfectly fine. But I think she may not fear the touch in itself, sir...she probably fears the result."  
  
He furrowed his brow. "Explain that, won't you?"  
  
"Don't you see, sir? She fears not you at all. She fears parenthood, would be my guess."  
  
"Now, why would she fear that? She ought to know it's a two way thing, the burden will not be entirely on her shoulders."  
  
"Ah, sir...preparin' a little life for the world is a difficult thing. But for m'wife an' I, it's a joy nonetheless."  
  
"I know." Tom smiled at the little ones, playing hide and seek amongst the masts and ropes and barrels.   
  
"You wish very much for a child, don't you, sir?" Bonden tilted his head, studying the pony-tailed officer.  
  
"Aye, I do," he said quietly. 


	5. How to explain this?

I cannot tell you how much of a joy it is getting reviews from you people. Hugs n' kisses all around!  
  
This is dedicated to the wonderful lapsus calami and the darling Chelle...XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 5  
  
Hannah lay on the bed of her and Tom's bed chamber, staring blankly up at the ceiling.  
  
Was she really in such a tiny space mentally; so tiny she would not trust her husband to guide her through the trials of marriage? Was she holding their marriage back? Was she an extra burden to Tom?  
  
The word "faith" kept rining in her head. She had once heard the preacher in church say that faith was the very base of a good relationship between man and wife. Was she, unwittingly causing their marriage to crumble?  
  
She loved Tom, truly. She loved it when he held her silently as they rested on the couch together; when they would make up after an argument, kissing on the porch for so long they had to actually be called in for supper. She loved that familiar hand on the shoulder that toldhe wanted to do far more in bed than sleep. She loved running her fingers through his silky locks. She loved his loving nature.  
  
It was then that it nearly slapped her across the face.  
  
Tom deserved to be a father.  
  
He should have been a long time ago.  
  
He'd brought enough joy to her life, now it was his turn.  
  
"God help me," she breathed, walking down the stairs, stomach knotted in fear of the decision she's just arbitrarily made. "You must do this for your husband, Hannah...Tom deserves this. And far more."  
  
...  
  
"RUBY BONDEN! YOU UNTIE YOUR BROTHERS THIS INSTANT!" Barrett yelled at his youngest daughter, putting one hand on his hip while the other kept the wheel steady.  
  
She pursed her lips and looked annoyed, the expression only looking adorable on her.  
  
Tom laughed and waved to her to tell her to untie the knot that held the squirming Joshua and Moses to the mast.  
  
"Mr. Pullings..." Ruby walk up to him, hands behind her back, looking nothing near a first lieutenant, but the very definition of darling and innocent. "Will I ever be a REAL lieutenant on a REAL ship?"  
  
He chuckled, patting her on the head, her wispy blonde hair fluttering. "No, unfortunately, little darling. But you'll always be my first lieutenant."  
  
She smiled broadly at him.  
  
...  
  
When Tom went home, tired though happy from running all over the ship with five young uns on his tail, he smiled fondly at his wife and kissed her cheek in greeting.  
  
Her smiled, charming but worried, urged him to guide her upstairs to speak, as she obviously wouldn't want to talk some private matter within the gossiping servants' hearing.  
  
"Are you well, apple tart?" He asked gently, shutting the door with one hand and cupping her cheek comfortingly with the other.  
  
She could only stare at him, frightened about what was ahead. Unable to really say anything, she took his chin in her palm, surprisingly gentle, then broke all laws of nature and kissed him square on the lips.  
  
Tom jerked slightly in surprise, eyes widening, but he none the less threw his arms around her and pulled her in, meshing his lips firming into hers, and translating the message no doubt hidden within the kiss.  
  
She was troubled, of that he was certain. Her lips were stiff and over-puckered, that told stress; stress or fear. Her refusal to push her body against his and deepen the smooch only strengthened his diagnosis. Muscles tensed...she definately needed to relax...  
  
But...what was this?   
  
She was stepping backward...and dragging him with her.  
  
He complied with her nonverbal request, and obediently followed her, still holding her gently.   
  
Hannah herself could barely believe was she was doing. Willingly kissing her husband? It seemed almost sick and wrong. He'd always been the aggressor, the one to initiate the marital pleasures. Yet she was the one who had started it, and he was enjoying himself, going along with it, dumping every ounce of love and delight toward his wife into it.   
  
When she felt her heel hit the bed, she threw herself backward upon it, taking him with her.  
  
"Whoa, now!" He pushed himself up on his elbows so he could look her in the face. "What's all this, apple tart?"  
  
How to explain this? Surely this was as bizarre to him as it was to her. She could only look at him a moment, the confusion plain as day in his eyes.  
  
"I...I have made up my mind, Thomas." Oh, brilliant, Hannah...confuse him more...  
  
"What?"  
  
She pulled him down enough so she could speak right into his ear. "You...you look handsome today, Tom." Hannah...just get to the point...lest he think you insane.  
  
"What are you getting at, Hannah?" He cocked his head at her, laughing slightly as he smiled to let her know it was alright to share whatever troubled her with him.  
  
She sighed and bit her lip, pulling herself out from under him enough to sit upright. "I-I...I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me." Stop dancing like that, Hannah! Most undignified...  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Hannah, are you well?"  
  
"Just...fine. Perfectly fine."  
  
He pushed himself up and sat down next to her, placing one arm around her. "I can see your troubled. You should relax, Hannah. Here, sleep for a bit. You'll feel better when you wake." He kissed her on the cheek and left her to nap, closing the door gently behind him.  
  
She fell back on the bed, angry at herself. "Why do you do that, Hannah Pullings? That was quite stupid...quite stupid indeed. Why didn't you just tell him? He would've been overjoyed."  
  
...  
  
Several months passed, and Hannah made many more attempts to conquer her fear and tell him. But the words simply wouldn't come. And she was becoming more and more annoyed and angry with herself.  
  
Tom, on the other hand, was becoming more and more perturbed by her behavior. What was wrong with his wife? He could've sworn she was losing her mind. He became worried about her, as not only was she seeming mentally ill, but she was seeming physically ill as well. She's seemed quite nauseated and was sleeping a lot longer than she normally did. He didn't pressure her for any activity in the bed; she seemed to be feeling utterly awful.  
  
"You should have Dr. Maturin look at you, apple tart," he commented one evening as she lay on her side, looking quite pale. "He'd probably have you fixed up in a jiff."  
  
"Don't trouble him," she replied, weakly waving an arm at him.   
  
He let her sleep, and decided not to bother her about a doctor. Though he was worried, he was sure it would probably pass. It didn't seem very serious. Plus he feared her anger over "overly worrying about her."  
  
The next morning, she had kissed him on the cheek goodbye and gone out for a walk, assuring him that all she needed was some fresh air, and she'd been quite healthy quite soon. He'd returned the kiss and let her go, inwardly praying she wouldn't hurt herself or make herself worse.  
  
As luck would have it, she wandered on over to the Bonden household, where Lilith was lying on the couch alone, reading a book. Or was, that is, until she'd conked off with the book landing open right across her face.  
  
She jumped at the knock on the door, and reflexively called for Barrett to get it, though quickly realizing he was gone for the day, and stiffly rolled herself off the couch to answer it.  
  
She rubbed her sore back a moment and opened the door, surprised at who was there. "Mizzus Pullings?"  
  
"Pardon my bothering you on a Sunday, Lily..." The poor woman looked utterly shaken, and Lily immediately pitied her without having to know what was wrong.  
  
"Here, come in, Mizzus Pullings..." She stepped to the side to allow her entrance.  
  
"Thank you, dear." Hannah stepped inside, her stance looking weak.  
  
"Shall I get you anything?"  
  
"No, no, thank you. You're such a dear." Her quick speaking was suspicious sounding, and Lily struggled not to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"Are you well, Mizzus Pullings? If you don't mind my asking..."   
  
She apprehensively looked about the room once again, then back at her host. "Might I ask you something, Lily?"  
  
"Of course. Here, come in and sit down, you look a tad under the weather."  
  
Hannah did so, wiping a few drops of sweat off her forehead as she looked over at the soon-sitting Lily, who was watching her, troubled about her friend.   
  
"Lily...when you were...expecting...how did you know?"  
  
Lily blinked. "Well, there's plenty of ways...headaches, cold-like symptoms...vomiting...your missing cycle, of course. Was quite the devil when I was pregnant with Aubrey. She was born at sea, would you believe?"  
  
"Lily..." Hannah looked at her in tears, but waving it off when offered a hankerchief. "I think I might be expecting." 


	6. You're a father, Tom

Mystery1- Think chapter 2. There's...suggestive dialogue in there. On top o' that, babe, they're a married couple...married couples do it all the time. wink   
  
Huntress16- Hannah is indeed my own creation. I believe Pullings is married in the books, but I have no idea on his real wife's name.  
  
Since y'all asked for more, here it is...  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 6  
  
"Really?" Lilith broke into a broad smile. "Tha's wonderful, Mizzus Pullings! There now, why y'cryin'?"  
  
Hannah buried her face in her hands, then burst out, "I've no idea how to be a mother!"  
  
Lily looked at her, eyes full of pity for the obviously lost woman. "There now, Mizzus Pullings, don't you fret! I'll help you through it, don't cry. After all, I'm five times a mother! Dun't you worry, I'll get you through the whole thing."  
  
She looked up. "Will you really, Lily?"  
  
"Of course! What good is the knowledge of an experienced mother if she doesn't share it with the inexperienced? By the way, have you told your husband yet?" She gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Believe you me, Mizzus Pullings...Mr. Pullings is a lovin' man, much like my husband. No doubt he'll do what Barrett did when I was with child...spoiled me to no end. Was lookin' forward to that babe, I tell ya. Don't worry, Mizzus Pullings, it'll come naturally." She leaned forward. "By the way...have you told your husband yet?"  
  
"No...I wasn't sure. But now I am!" Hannah sniffed and wiped a tear away.   
  
"Aw, don't be scared, darling. Aside from me, I'm sure Dr. Maturin'll be of good service. Delivered my Aubrey, and my twins. The other two I had no help with, except my husband, unfortunately. Couldn't get a midwife in time. But get Dr. Maturin to be your midwife...or midhusband, if you like. And talk to my Barrett, he's quite experienced in being a father and being cursed at during delivery. Don't you fret, Mizzus Pullings, I'll help you through the whole thing..."  
  
Hannah thought back to her kissing Tom on the spur of the moment, and tried to sort out the strange mixtures of thoughts she'd surely had. Actually, she didn't even remember if she was thinking at all. She's practically tried to conceive the baby right then and there. What HAD been going through her head?  
  
Come to think of it, when had this baby been conceiv- oh.   
  
Of course.  
  
The night he'd come home.  
  
...  
  
Meanwhile, Tom sat at home on the couch, chin in his hand. Hannah had been acting utterly odd lately, utterly odd indeed. She'd been starting sentences and then going tight-lipped. Then she'd just went quiet and soft-spoken altogether. That was...not Hannah. Not her at all.  
  
Even before that...she'd KISSED him! And it'd been her own doing! But trying to start the...act in itself...now what had THAT been?! She could've sworn she was possessed.  
  
It hadn't been the softest kiss he'd ever received, buty it'd been one of the sweetest, despite it's peculiar origin. And his being pulled down on the bed...that too had awoken a combination of strangeness and love that had been entirely new and bizarre to him. He had to admit though...her aggression had been quite attractive.  
  
She is a woman, you will never explain her, Tom, he reminded himself. As Bonden said, only God knows what He created.  
  
Now, what had this illness been? Could be nothing out of the ordinary. A cold...influenza, perhaps. He'd have treated her like a baby if she wouldn't have lectured him on how undignified it was.  
  
He wished she was a carefree woman. What a wonderful person she'd be, and the world would not help but love her, instead of thinking her an old crank.  
  
"Ah, apple tart, what's gotten into you?" He mumbled to himself. "What troubles you, my love?"  
  
...Come to think of it, she'd been out for quite a while. Where was she?  
  
Was she- no. "How could you even think that, Tom Pullngs? What a wretched husband you are to think that of your wife..." He immediately shoved the thought aside. She would never, ever commit adultery. Never.  
  
"Thomas! I'm home!"  
  
"Ah, apple tart, come join me!" He turned in his seat, smiling brightly at her.   
  
She looked very nervous, walking over cautiously.  
  
"Thomas, I must tell you something."  
  
His heart felt as though it'd sunk right down to his stomach; he didn't like the sound of those words. Nonetheless, he took her into his arms as she sat down. "Speak with me, then, my love."  
  
She looked almost embarrassed; frightened to say what she had to.  
  
He braced himself for the worst, his wife looking at him so pitifully.  
  
"Thomas..." She inhaled and held it, pausing for what seemed like an endless moment. "You...you're a father, Tom..."  
  
His jaw dropped, eyes staring blankly.  
  
Hannah bit her lip and looked at the floor, ashamed. His expression told his thoughts, and she was humiliated by them.  
  
But what she missed was the broad, ear-to-ear smile that slowly crossed his lips. "C-can this be true, Hannah?" He asked quietly, leaning down. "Have y-you really a babe in here?" He reached around her waist and patted her belly.  
  
She nodded, brushing a single tear away.  
  
He smile quickly dropped, his face going instantly concerned. "There now, apple tart, why're you crying?"  
  
Hannah looked up at him, sniffling. "I-I...thought you weren't...aren't you unhappy with this?"  
  
"Oh, Hannah!" He hugged her tightly, clutching her head to his chest. "No, no, Hannah, it is not at all like that! I was just so surprised, I apologize if that misled you! Quite frankly, I'm shaking with joy!" His smile regenerating, he stroked over her hair. "This is the greatest thing God has ever done for me, how merciful He is! No, no, I am quite happy you are pregnant!" He looked at his grip enough to look at her. "Are you?"  
  
She could only stare up at him. 


	7. Stop grabbing my arse, Thomas Pullings!

Words cannot describe how wonderful you people are. You're incredibly sweet, following this pile of crap called a fanfic. Seriously, if you all were in front of me right now, I'd kiss everyone of you. kisses on both cheeks for everybody  
  
My apologies for taking so long...I went brain dead.  
  
As only seems proper...  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 7  
  
"Thomas, if you pinch my bum one more time, you'll be missing your hand!" Hannah blindly swatted at him with her ladle, a move he easily dodged, giggling.  
  
She grumbled, going back to preparing dinner, as it was the cook's day off. As expected, it wasn't long before the familiar sensation grazed over her arse once again, and it was all she could do not to make deadly use of the butcher knife next to her.  
  
"GOD HELP ME, THOMAS!" She shouted, whirling about, wielding her hefty wooden ladle like a broad-bladed sword.  
  
He bounced back, laughing at her.  
  
"You are so lucky I'm too fat, Thomas Pullings," she snarled, clenching up in annoyance.  
  
"And might I say that a slow, fat woman never looked so lovely."  
  
She glared, turning red. "I...you...grr..." She weakly flung the utensil at him. "No, you may not say! I hate being fat and it's all your fault!"  
  
He only laughed harder, having been a poorly aimed-at target.  
  
Taking on her ever-popular offended look, she went back to the counter, mumbling about her infernal husband and her swollen belly getting in the way.  
  
He watched her, smiling at her seeming rage over not being able to chase him away, the expression only broadening at the joy of anticipated fatherhood. Never before had a round woman looked so beautiful as his pregnant wife. It was becoming harder and harder to hug her, and he never thought he'd be so happy at the cause.  
  
Here he was...a father. His pretty wife expecting...  
  
He studied her, with her narrow shoulders shifting, back twitching from the movement of her arms. And of course that nice buttocks he'd been grabbing at...  
  
The way her fairly petite frame carried that weight...sheer art, he could've sworn...  
  
She suddenly sighed, exasperated, shoulders dropping with the pestered-sounding note. "Thomas, I hate it when you just...stare at me like that. Please don't do that," she muttered in a tone that told her patience was on its last leg. Not that it'd ever really had more than one...  
  
He chuckled, walking up behind her. "Why not, apple tart? Can I not stare at a pretty woman?"  
  
"Not when that so-called 'pretty woman' is your fat wife who is angry with you!"  
  
He smiled, touching cheek to cheek with her. " I am but a simple man, wrought for simple pleasures..."  
  
"And your simple pleasures made me FAT!" She side-stepped away from him, dragging her cutting board with her. "And I hope you know that no matter how long you stare at my belly, you're not going to suddenly be able to see through it and see the baby! So go stare at something else and try to...work your magic, you pest-of-a-husband! Shoo! Off with you!" She turned him by his shoulders and gave him a rough though weak shove toward the door.  
  
...  
  
Though she kept insisting she was to nauseous to eat anything, Tom managed to poke and prod her into getting some of her own soup down her throat, but of course not without going to war over it.  
  
"HANNAH!"  
  
"I'M NOT HUNGRY!"  
  
"EAT ANYWAY!"  
  
"I...AM...NOT...HUNGRY!"   
  
"EAT OR I'M NOT KISSING YOU FOR A MONTH! Oh, wait...you're perfectly fine with that..."  
  
She threw herself back in the chair, crossing her arms, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips, though never fully revealing itself, her eye twitching in her fierce gaze.   
  
He returned her narrowed eyes and pursed his lips. "If you're not going to eat for yourself, at least eat for the baby, won't you? You obviously aren't going to do anything if your husband merely asks it of you."  
  
True, Hannah was no submissive wife, but she could be bent, and he may have very well hit the proverbial nail right on the head. Though a stubborn woman...she had her soft spots. And he knew them like the back of his hand.  
  
"Y-you...I...you...ARGH." She growled, head sinking between her shoulders in rebelliousness.  
  
He only smiled at it, handing over the spoon anxiously. "That's my apple tart."  
  
Of course, she glared, snatching it away. "Infernal man..."  
  
"I love you, too." He pinched her cheek, rising from his seat. "Be a dear and finish the bowl. Here, give me a quick kiss."  
  
"Go away, Thomas!" She snapped.  
  
He raised his eyebrows and turned on his heel, mumbling, "I knew that would be pushing my luck..."  
  
She stared, sneering, down at the soup bowl, as though blaming it for her morning sickness and her being fat and being kicked roughly from within by a strong-legged babe. She'd never really had the strongest ability to look on the bright side. As far as she was concerned, she was obese and she was uncomfortable. End of story.  
  
"For your husband, Hannah," she quietly reminded herself. "For your husband."  
  
Tom watched her from the top of the stair case. She looked...oh, what was it?...Oh, yes...depressed. Something was wrong with the poor woman.   
  
Well, according to her, everything was wrong, absolutely nothing was decent. That was perfectly normal, however. What was this...this sadness? Anger was Hannah's thing...not sadness. Few things made her cry, and when they did, the tears were over within a quarter hour. His leaving made her cry, which is why, despite what he was told, he knew she loved him. Death made her cry. But neither had happened recently.   
  
"Surely this is the result of the pregnancy, Tom," he mentally told himself. "Women do strange things when with child. Strange things indeed." He thought of going down to flat-out ask her and be done with it so he could fix it or chase it away, but decided it was best to let her alone.  
  
"It had best bring itself out in due time, lest my wife go insane..." He grumbled almost inaudibly.   
  
"STOP SPYING ON ME, THOMAS PULLINGS!" She screamed, without even turning around.  
  
"Yes, love..." He quickly walked away from the railing. 


	8. HANNAH!

Okay, here we go...chapter 8. I will try to make this longer and better written...crosses fingers  
  
Again, kisses on both cheeks for everybody...  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 8  
  
Tom felt the blood drain from his face as he quickly skimmed the letter he'd been given.  
  
"Th-thank you." He nodded weakly at the thin, scruffy messenger boy, who bowed slightly and speedily scampered away.  
  
The pale recently-promoted Captain fell against the door as it closed, wishing it would never come open again, droplets of sweat beginning to form a layer over his brow. He stared at the piece of parchment, mouth open, eyes widening in sheer shock.  
  
Who...wha-...why...  
  
Leaving in two months. On another assignment.  
  
How was this-  
  
How could they-  
  
WHAT WAS WRONG, NOW?!  
  
His wife was pregnant! Expecting his child! And if he had to leave, chances were he wouldn't be able to be present for the birth of his babe. How could this happen?! Why now?  
  
"Thomas?"  
  
He jerked his head up to see Hannah standing on the steps, one eyebrow raised. Oh, great...how to tell a verbally-violent woman with child she had to be alone for a bit...  
  
"What's wrong, Thomas? You're sweating like a horse..."  
  
"I-it's nothing. Absolutely nothing." He tried to shove the summons in his pocket, but she managed to snatch it, much to his horror.  
  
Watching her eyes move down the words, he thought he was going to faint, going so pale a ghost would've declared itself unable to produce such an effect.  
  
Her forehead furrowed. "They're joking...they can't mean this..."  
  
He only bit his lip.  
  
She looked down at the letter once again, this time more angry and frantic. "This can't be legal!"  
  
Choking on what to say, he could only stutter, "I-it is..."  
  
She was obviously not at all happy. "Well...beg leave, then! Pretend you're seriously ill! Pretend you DIED! Do something! Anything! I can't have you leaving now!"  
  
Of course, you couldn't expect her to take this well, Tom...  
  
He massaged his temple, stressed, unsure of how to hangle this. "Relax, now, apple tart, plea-"  
  
"No, Thomas, I will not relax!" She hissed snippily, flailing her arms, the paper snapping about in the artificial wind. "How can you expect me to RELAX?!"  
  
"Apple tart, please, I don't want to go, but-"  
  
"They always take you when I need you the most! The times when I feel closest to you!" She spat in a near-sob. "They took you from me just when I had something in the way of affection for you! They took you at the most inopportune time when my parents, who are used to my antics and need fresh blood to be repelled, decide to come chanting to us about an heir that I don't exactly WANT! And now that I can barely move, they decide to take you!"  
  
"Life isn't always fair, apple tart-"  
  
"It has NEVER been FAIR!" She shrieked, the fact that she was holding in an all-out storm of tears becoming more and more apparent.  
  
Hannah's screaming and his stressing over the situation weren't exactly helping his headache. "Apple tart, please don't yell at me, it isn't my faul-"  
  
"DAMN THE NAVY!"  
  
He opened his mouth to give a reflex response, but only a squeak came out when the words sank in. He slowly turned his head and looked past the hand that covered the left side of his face. Eyes wide, his jaw quivered, seeking a reply. "H-Hannah...h-how can you speak of the service like that?"  
  
"DAMN THE KING AND DAMN THE NAVY AND DAMN IT ALL!" She waved her arms for emphasis, sheer hatred in her eyes.  
  
"Hannah..." He said as calm as possible through clenched teeth. "You know very well the Navy provides for this household, which includes you..."  
  
"DAMN IT!"  
  
"Hannah Pullings, I'll not have you speak of the service in that way..." Her runaway mouth was pushing him closer and closer to the edge. "Mind your tongue, Mrs. of mine-"  
  
"DAMN THE STUPID NAVY TO HELL!"  
  
"GOD DAMN IT ALL, HANNAH!" Before he realized what he was doing, he swung his arm around and brutally back-handed her right across the face, the slap resonating through the room.  
  
She let out a high-pitched grunt and bent to the side from the impact, nearly losing her balance because of her large belly.  
  
His green eyes instantly went from rage-filled to broad and round beyond any normal stare. He looked at his stinging hand in utter shock, as though he'd had no control over it's illicit actions. You slapped a pregnant woman, Tom...you slapped your wife...  
  
She rose slowly, a look of pure venom and challenge spread across her reddening face.  
  
"H-H-Hannah...I-I...I..."  
  
She held up her hand to stop him from talking, her glare telling everything she had to say. And it was far more unladylike than her previous language.  
  
Turning on her heel, she walked back up the stairs, Tom watching her in complete dismay, brain screaming at him to explain himself and apologize. But alas, the words refused to reveal themselves, and the space reserved for them was taken up by a stunned silence.  
  
He followed her with his gaze until she disappeared, and winced at the loud door slam that echoed through the house.  
  
The weakness that'd gripped his vocal cords began to plague his knees, and they soon buckled. He slowly slid down the door, burying his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at anything but darkness.  
  
"Heaven Above..." He gasped, tears beginning to gather beneath his eyes as he started to sweat more profusely, guilt and shock gnawing at his gut.   
  
Out of reflex, his mind tried to justify it comfortingly, yet his conscious countered all of it, and he could do nothing but painfully listen to the two battle.  
  
"She damned the Navy, Tom...she damned your life."  
  
"That's no license to hit her."  
  
"She was yelling at you! Where does any woman get the right to raise her voice to her husband?"  
  
"That's nothing compared to slapping your wife...your PREGNANT wife, no less..."  
  
"There's no law that says you can't smack her..."  
  
"Under the laws of God, you treat her with respect, and you and I both know the laws of God override any made by man."  
  
He blinked, forcing one tear to lose its grip and fall. "Ah, God, forgive me...what in hell possessed me to do that?"  
  
...  
  
Hannah thrust the window open, smearing some of the blood from her cut palm on the crystal clear glass, causing a splash of red to stain the white light that fell on the bed.  
  
She'd already broken the small mirror on her vanity table, proceeding to stab one of the pointed pieces into the wall, resulting in her slit hand. It stung, but she ignored it, too angry to bother with bandaging it properly. It wasn't that deep, anyway.  
  
Most wives would've been crying after being hit for the first time, but Hannah Pullings didn't need to pity herself. Her rage made up for that.  
  
"Come on, now, you said some things you shouldn't have said out of anger. His reaction was the same."  
  
"Shut up!" She snapped at her conscious.  
  
"Just forgive him. He's forgiven you for every time you've yelled things you didn't mean."  
  
"Just SHUT UP! He's a bastard!"  
  
"Don't you love him, Hannah?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You two have fought before. You will get over this soon."  
  
"I hate him."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
"Yes, I do!"  
  
"Why are you pregnant, then, I wonder?"  
  
She beat the window sill furiously. "Why did he HIT me, then, I wonder?!"  
  
"Hannah, you insulted who he is. You bruised his honor, saying what you did about the Navy. And words can hurt as much as the fist."  
  
"Can I not get any sympathy, even from you?!"  
  
"I have sympathy for you, I just think you should apologize."  
  
"Oh, go away!" She waved her arm above her head to make the voice leave and be quiet, but she only managed to bang her forearm on the bottom of the window pane. She cursed, rubbing it against her side to calm the agonized nerve.   
  
"He's real sorry, Hannah."  
  
"No, he isn't!"  
  
"Don't you even feel the slightest bit of remorse for what you said?"  
  
Biting her lip, she only glared deeper at the street.  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
...  
  
"Hannah?" Tom lightly rapped on the door. "Please, apple tart, I want to talk to you."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Come on, love, don't be like this...please, let me in..." He turned the door knob to see if it was locked.  
  
It wasn't, but it grated against something. He tried to push it open gently, but it refused to give way.  
  
"Don't 4do this, Hannah, please..." Bracing his shoulder against the door, he shoved harder.  
  
It opened a crack, accompanied by the screech of something grinding against the floor.   
  
"Hannah, is that you?"  
  
When receiving no response, he stepped back a pace and barrelled his shoulder at the door.  
  
The scrape protested louder, but at least it was open enough for him to squeeze in and see that it was a lonely chair propped up under the knob that'd blocked his entrance.   
  
He promptly removed it, looking about the silent room. No Hannah on the bed...no Hannah in the corner...no Hannah in the room, quite frankly.  
  
"Hannah?" He raised an eyebrow, scanning every niche visible for any sign of her.   
  
The broken pieces of mirror reflecting the bright sunlight, looking like scattered bits of a star on the floor and vanity table, caught his eye, and he cocked his head at it, puzzled, beginning a thorough scrutinizing of the perimeter of the room.  
  
"Apple tart, where-" He skidded to a halt in surprise, having come face to face with himself.  
  
Rather, it was about a third of his face, but it was unanticipated nonetheless. It took him a second to grasp that it was a larger piece of the crushed mirror lodged in the wood of the wall.   
  
"Good Lord, Hannah," he mumbled, gently plucking it from its entrapment, gaping at it oddly. Her obvious fury only made him feel worse and more desperate to express regret. He studied it in thought, turning it in his hand.   
  
It was then that he noticed, and commenced gawking at, the line of blood along the edge of the bit.   
  
"Oh, no, Hannah, you didn't..." He frantically looked under the bed and in the wardrobe, having no idea why she'd hide in either place, but anxious to find her, and then ran at the open window, only becoming more frenzied at the sight of the crimson on both the window pane and sill. "Hannah?!"  
  
He jerked his head in both directions up and down the street, becoming completely hysterical.  
  
"HANNAH?!?!" 


	9. Jeremiah, get your mother! And be quick!

Sorry this took awhile...I'm losing braincells by the minute, I swear...  
  
I swear, if I ever find out what you people look like and I find you on the street, I'm going to death grip hug you....  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 9  
  
The cut on her palm, Hannah discovered, was deeper than she'd thought it was. She tried just letting it sit and clot, but the slightest shift made the blood flow once more.  
  
"Oh, dear...why did I leave that kerchief at home?" She felt about with her free hand to make sure it was just in some obscure place.  
  
Of course, a missing hankie was the least of her problems...even her bleeding hand wasn't first in line of the thoughts clamoring for attention. According to her, the first in line wasn't worthy of heed, hence it was to be defied in anger, hence no one else in line was getting their turn.  
  
The tiny white splinters in the open gash added to the sting. She should've just snuck out the back door...climbing down a trellis pregnant with an injured hand...what had she been thinking?  
  
"Mizzus Pullings?"  
  
She looked up, turning her wounded hand toward her chest as she cradled it.  
  
Barrett Bonden cocked his head at her, smiling slightly in greeting. "Afternoon, ma'am."  
  
"Hello, Barrett," she breathed uneasily, praying he wouldn't see the blood. There was no reason he shouldn't see it, of course; after all, he could be of help. But the voice in the back of one's head will tell a person to do strange things, which they will follow without question.  
  
Young Jeremiah tottered back and forth on his feet, lingering behind the laundry basket on his father's arm.  
  
"Lily made me be useful t'day-" His expression instantly went from trying to make friendly conversation to undoubtedly concerned. "Mizzus Pullings, are you bleedin'?"  
  
"I'm fine," Hannah muttered, unsuccessfully trying to hide the red that was starting to drip and curdle on the ground.  
  
The Bonden boy rose on his tip-toes to look over the linens that puffed out over the top of the basket, but promptly had the wicker shoved into his arms, his father plucking a freshly-cleaned hankerchief from the mess of sheets and shirts.  
  
"'Ere, 'old that a minute, Jeremiah, there's a good lad. Och, 'ow'd you manage to do that, marm? 'Ere, lemme see..."   
  
She pulled it away reluctantly. "No, really, it's just a small nick..."  
  
He softly took her hand, (a motion she relented, much to her own surprise) and pulled it closer to his face for a better look. "Pardon my arguin', ma'am, that ain't no nick. That's a right knife slit."  
  
"It's fine, it's nothing, it'll heal." She tried to pull away, but he gently held firm.  
  
"Mizzus Pullings, wouldn't feel right leavin' you here, hurt as y'are. You was kind to me when I broke my nose, let me return the favor." He looked straight at her (being almost exactly her height), big green eyes doing the work they were no doubt intended to, a pout barely hiding behind his bottom lip. The most manly way to perform the undignified act of begging.  
  
She said nothing, only swallowed and stopped resisting.  
  
Wordlessly thanking the trust, he dabbed at it tenderly, immediately staining the perfect white square of cloth. "Och, that's quite deep. Would you like it if my Lily looked at it? She has to deal with all kinds of wounds and hurtin', bein' married to me. She'd know how to fix it right."  
  
"Really, I don't thin-" Hannah blinked and gritted her teeth at the sudden wave of intoxication and headache that flushed over her nerves, making her unable to finish her protest.  
  
"Ma'am?" Bonden raised his eyebrows, noticing and worrying about her arbitrary pain. "Marm, you look quite warm, should you sit down?"  
  
"No, it's...nothing." She stepped back to maintain her diminishing balance, her heel only hitting the brick wall of the building she'd been leaning against.  
  
"Mizzus Pullings, you don't look well at all..." He held her shoulder as she began to tip. "You know, my Lily said too much heat isn't good for a pregnant woman..."  
  
"I'm...I'll be...fine." She tried to rub the nauseating blur and double-vision out with her free hand, but it was still there when she opened her eyes once more. She felt no less than a drunk who had not only drowned his agony, but had near drowned himself as well.   
  
"You really ought to sit, marm..."  
  
"I'm perfectly fi-" Her speech cut off as though she'd choked, and she teetered a moment.  
  
A dark haze dance across her eyes, like some demon on the prowl, awaiting the moment she would weaken enough for him to spring.  
  
She clutched her throbbing temple, letting her sticky, crimson hand fall to her side, the blood puddle that had accumulated rolling off her fingers and splashing in the dust.  
  
Without warning, her eyes rolled back and she crumbled forward, the physical fury that had swept over her obviously too much for her body to bear anymore.  
  
Bonden directly moved to catch her, throwing his arms under hers to support her under her shoulders, and looked over his back at his son, whose jaw was practically on the ground.   
  
"Jeremiah, get your mother, and be quick of it. Move!" He ordered. "Don't gawk like a dead fish! Go! Lest I cuff you!"  
  
The boy instantly trotted off, propping the laundry basket up on his head where it would hinder him the least.  
  
His father steadily lowered the unconscious woman to the ground. "Poor lass, thought she was right ill..."  
  
...  
  
"Sarah, have you seen the Mistress?" Tom asked, walking through the kitchen for the fifth time on his almost rampant search.  
  
"Not recently, sir." Sarah looked at him oddly, having seen him pass her at fifteen minute intervals for the past hour, scouring the house. "Last I saw, she was with you."  
  
"I know," he sighed, voice dropping to a depressed note as he trotted toward the door that led from the kitchen to the side of the house.  
  
Sarah bit back a guilty sigh of relief, watching him go out of the corner of her eye. She'd seen none of what'd happened, only heard the yelling, the slap and the door slam. With that, she didn't need to see, quite frankly; sounds can explain a thing or two sometimes.   
  
Admiration had before conquered her view of her employer, as she'd always seen him a placid loving man, a good husband who would certainly be a wonderful father. A pure gentleman, who paid his household help more than average and treated them with the utmost respect normally extended toward a friend, and not someone beneath one. His being a personal acqaintance of the esteemed Stephen Maturin had it's positive aspects, as well.   
  
He'd been reduced to a man begging God to prevent his wife from leaving him.  
  
Sarah pitied him, but couldn't help being weary, and she felt culpable for it. Fearing him getting too close felt criminal, what with the almost-luxury lifestyle (compared to the way the average maid lived) he'd provided.   
  
"HANNAH!" She heard him yell down the street. "HANNAH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"   
  
"God help him find the Mistress," she murmured under her breath so that none but the soapy water in the sink, the dishes, and the Divine she addressed heard. 


	10. The unconscious flight risk

I cannot define just how flattered I am by you guys' keeping up with this, and your demanding more has only spurred me on to get it up soon for you people.   
  
...I suppose that was the idea....  
  
lapsus calami- One of these days, I'm probably gonna give Jeremiah a girlfriend and base her after you. This chappie's for you and for French Connection. XOXOXOXO  
  
Go read Lapsus Calami's stuff, people! Seriously! She's a freakin' incredible writer!  
  
You May Be Just Yet Chapter 10  
  
"Barrett Bonden, I said COLD water! Can you not tell the difference between warm and cold?!"  
  
"This was what was in the water pot!"  
  
"Then go to the well and get fresh water! You don't tame a fever with warm water!"  
  
Barrett narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, shoulders dropping in easily obtained exasperation.   
  
Lily, hearing no obedient footsteps, looked over her shoulder and jerked her head in the direction of the door. "Well, go on! Hop to it! Whip your lazy-horse self in the rump!"  
  
He snorted and rolled his eyes, complaining to himself as he walked sulkily out the door. Immature, yes, but it still managed to seem acceptable with his boyish appearence.   
  
"What have I told you about that mouth?! Keep that kind of language on the SHIP!"  
  
"I KNOW!" He shouted back like an annoyed child constantly pestered by his mother. "I 'EARD YOU AFORE, POND LILY!"  
  
"OBVIOUSLY NOT!" She glared at the open door, hoping the ferocity would chase him, though he was around the corner and out of sight.  
  
Hannah lay solemnly on the couch, eyes closed delicately, both hands laid at her sides. Dead was the only word to describe the way she looked, the only indication that she wasn't being the fact that her skin was too dark for her blood to not be running strongly in her veins.  
  
She'd been in the sun too long, Mrs. Bonden had diagnosed firmly. Heat stroke, without a doubt.  
  
"Mama, what's wrong with Mizzus Pullings?" Joshua asked, staring at the unmoving woman while absentmindedly tugging at his mother's loose shirt sleeve.  
  
"The warmth outside made her ill."  
  
"I di'n't know that could make ya sick..." Jeremiah was still staring at her like she was some bizarre animal on display, despite how many times he was told a passed-out woman was nothing much to look at, let alone gape at.  
  
Little Moses looked on wide-eyed and open-mouthed, looking just as ridiculous as his older brother. He attracted his mother's attention, however, when he cursed in awe.  
  
"Moses Bonden, I'm gonna tan your hide..." Lily knocked him roughly upside the head, causing some of his bushy blonde hair to flutter.  
  
"Och, Mama!" He whined, grimacing and rubbing the sore area. "It slipped, 'm sorry!"  
  
"That's what you get for taking after your father." She picked up Hannah's cut hand, dropping the subject. "Here's what I want to know. Where did this come from? And the little white bits wood in it, too? Which that seemed odd to me..."  
  
The slit had been tightly wrapped in clean strips of cloth soaked in salt water. Hannah probably would have been crying if she'd been conscious. Salt in a wound stung like hellfire, but it killed infection, and a few hours of pain was surely a better verdict than the remainder of a lifetime without an extremity.   
  
"Poor, poor darling..." Lily patted her on the cheek. "Aubrey, Jeremiah, listen here. Do you know where Mr. and Mizzus Pullings' house is?"  
  
Aubrey nodded. "I know a short cut to the road it's on through the back fields, Mama."  
  
Jeremiah looked rather clueless, but he didn't need to say anything to make it known he would just follow his sister.   
  
"Good. Go get Mr. Pullings. Don't worry him; I don't want him hurting himself by running over here like a spooked rabbit. So make sure you reassure him his mizzus is fine. BARRETT BONDEN, WAS THE THIRTY FEET TO THE WELL REALLY SUCH A LONG TRIP THAT YOU HAD TO STOP TO PISS?! FOR GOD'S LOVE!"  
  
"I DI'NT STOP TO PISS!" He heavily set the water bucket down by the door indignantly, some of the contents splashing upward.  
  
...  
  
Tom flopped onto the couch face down, cheeks moist. "Augh, where are you, apple tart?"   
  
He'd scoured the house only-God-knew how many times until he'd completely worn himself out, with barely enough will left to want to continue. He wanted to bawl, but found himself completely dry.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"My God, what have I done..." He rasped to himself, voice trailing off. A dazed look was plastered across his face, both tired and wallowing in sadness, and he didn't notice Sarah leaning out the kitchen doorway, nor the smaller face that momentarily peeked past her shoulder.  
  
"Sir?" Sarah said, a notch louder.  
  
"Yes, Sarah?" He droned, looking over at her, moving no more than his eyes.  
  
"You've visitors, sir." She stepped back and let Aubrey and Jeremiah pass into view.  
  
"I say, are you alright, sir?" Aubrey asked in a positively darling concerned voice, curtseying slightly while her brother dropped a bow.  
  
"Yes, yes, perfectly fine," Tom grunted, pushing himself up on shaky arms.   
  
The little Bonden faces looked at him so disquietly, both of them with their father's substantially great eyes that would thaw the most bitterly frozen of hearts.  
  
"Do you need something, little ones?"  
  
"Yessir," Aubrey responded, clasping her hands behind her back innocently. "Now, Mama wishes it that you don't worry yourself..."  
  
He tilted his head at her.  
  
"Da' found Mizzus Pullings," she continued, but quickly added, "And she's perfectly alright!"  
  
He stared blankly a moment, then rose, vigor suddenly returning. "You've found my Hannah?!" The almost beautiful surge of liberation that followed the comprehension of her words was enough to strengthen him for the rest of eternity. No mention of good will or announcement of breathtaking hearsay would ever bring him such exultance, such a feeling so close to that of an angel holding him close. Deep down, he'd expected the words somehow, but his body was unprepared for the joy they brought.   
  
"Yessir! And she's quite alright!" She looked near frantic.  
  
"Oy..." He breathed a sigh of relief, struggling not to let the extra tears fall in the reprieve, and hugged the two youngsters. "Thank you, little ones, you've no idea the illness you've just cured!"  
  
Jeremiah just stood, surprised at the embrace, but Aubrey hugged him back.  
  
"Where is she now?" He loosened his grip enough to look down at the wavy-haired girl.   
  
"She's at our house, Mr. Pullings."  
  
"I'll give you a ride home. Sarah! Fetch the carriage around, won't you?!"  
  
...  
  
"Barrett Bonden, how do you lose-"  
  
"'Twasn't my fault, Pond Lily! I only turned my back for a second!"  
  
Lily stood on her tip-toes to get right in his face, putting her hands on her hips. "What's WRONG WITH YOU!?!?  
  
He crossed his arms. "I didn't do anything!"  
  
"What are we gonna tell-" She froze at the faint sound of hoofbeats, then glared fiercely at him. "Well...guess who gets to explain this to Mr. Pullings?!"  
  
"Why me?!"  
  
"Cuz' it's your fault!"  
  
"Which it's NOT!"  
  
She violently pointed at the door, and snarled through clenched teeth, "You get out there, or I'll sleep on the couch until either one of us dies and breaks this marriage!"  
  
He could only glare back, and eventually stomped outside. "Miserable woman, you are!"  
  
"And you married me!"  
  
Lily trotted across the house and out the backdoor, scanning the street thoroughly, Barrett yelling in the background...  
  
"Oy! I think you best unhook them 'orses, sir! Mizzus Pullings done run off!" 


	11. Author Note

Okay, loveys.  
My deepest apologies, first off. Some of you were waiting for this, and I'm terribly sorry, both for making you wait and for disappointing you.  
  
I'm considering taking this story down, and/or possibly rewriting. Heck, I may just take it down and trash it, as it sucks.  
There are better Pullings romances for you to waste your time on, I'm sure. My writing "talents" and deranged brain have gone AWOL on me; I've been able to come up with very little. I love you all, and you all get hugs and kisses.  
  
Hannah seems to be a beloved character, I don't think I'll make her go poof yet. But I am considerin shutting this fat arse story down, as it is retarded and neglected.  
If you've protests, suggestions, agreements, or any other....blah, just review.  
  
hugs and kisses  
  
-Thig 


End file.
